


Ya Bore Me!

by BluebirdWrites



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV) Fusion, Crack, Fluff, Gen, Humor, M/M, Marriage Proposal, No deep feelings talk we throw in badly-timed jokes or we die, but it's a b99 au if it's not crack are you really doing it right, the halloween heist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:00:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22428238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BluebirdWrites/pseuds/BluebirdWrites
Summary: “Like I said this morning Tetsuro, you can’t surprise me anymore because I’ll always be one step ahead of you. Face it; ya bore me,” Yaku gloats.“Weird take on a loving relationship, but okay,” Kuroo mutters to no one in particular.“You know what I find adds flavour to a relationship? Co-owning a multi-level marketing-”“Ignore him,” Kuroo cuts off Tendou’s script, “Look Yakkun, there are three Tramps, one captain Ushijima, and two of us. The only way we can win this is if we team up.”“Hmm, you raise an interesting point,” Yaku places a finger against his cheek in contemplation. “I guess my response is… Rot in hell you smarmy overgrown dickweed!”“Also I love you, and I treasure our time together, and ya bore me!”(It's a Brooklyn 99 Heist but Kuroo and Yaku are Jake and Amy, what else is there to say?)
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou & Kuroo Tetsurou, Kuroo Tetsurou & Sawamura Daichi, Kuroo Tetsurou & Shimizu Kiyoko, Kuroo Tetsurou & Ushijima Wakatoshi, Kuroo Tetsurou/Yaku Morisuke, a lot of others but tagging them all is a chore
Comments: 2
Kudos: 54





	Ya Bore Me!

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when you post about a kryk as peraltiago au on Tumblr, get genuinely invested in the idea, and up your dose of ADHD meds all within the same week. It's 8.9k of the HalloVeen heist but with Haikyuu characters and additional rambling. 
> 
> For reference:  
> Kuroo: Jake Peralta  
> Yaku: Amy Santiago  
> Ushijima: Raymond Holt  
> Bokuto: Charles Boyle  
> Kiyoko: Rosa Diaz  
> Daichi: Terry Jeffords  
> Oikawa: Gina Linetti  
> Tanaka & Nishinoya: Hitchcock & Scully
> 
> Tendou: Bill/Fake Charles  
> Semi: Kevin  
> Daishou: Doug Judy  
> Kageyama & Hinata: Cagney & Lacey  
> Goshiki: Cheddar (I'm sorry I just ran out of ideas lmao)

The game’s afoot.

Silently, so as to not wake Yaku beside him, Kuroo reaches over and turns on the lamp resting on his bedside table. Once his eyes have adjusted to the presence of light in their tiny bedroom, he startles momentarily at the sight of Yaku perched on the other side of the bed already in his work clothes.

“I’ve already been up for ten minutes Tetsu,” he crows smugly, “it seems that I’m one step ahead of you.” 

Well isn’t that just adorable, “That confidence is cute Yakkun,” Kuroo says with a smirk, “But you’ve been foiled again, you see, not only am I dressed-” at this he pulls off the duvet, revealing his uniform, “-but I’ve also made myself breakfast!” 

His cocky triumph fades away the moment he pulls the fabric covering his ace in the hole away, only to find an empty dish with a pair of chopsticks resting neatly where his omurice should be. Yaku raises an eyebrow at him and he flusters. “I swear, it was here a minute ago, you must have taken it!”

“It wasn’t me! I wouldn’t touch your cooking with a ten-foot pole!”

“He speaks the truth, you see Kuroo-san, it was I took your omurice.”

Both of them jump at the familiar deep voice coming from the bedroom door, standing in the doorframe and partially hidden by shadow is the all-too-recognizable form of the one and only captain Ushijima Wakatoshi.

Yaku is the first to speak, “How in the hell-” he manages, “-did you get in here?” 

“Unimportant,” the captain dismisses the question with a wave of his hand, “The real issue here detectives, is how hungry you are.”

“Hungry?” Yaku asks at the same time Kuroo mumbles, “Well I’d be a lot less hungry if someone hadn’t stolen my breakfast.”

“Yes, hungry. Because the two of you are about to Eat. My. Dust.” and with that, he strides out of the room and into the hallway, leaving Yaku and Kuroo to curse loudly and chase after him. 

* * *

“Right then!” Kuroo bellows, “As many of you know, I was only recently freed from the cold hard solitude of prison, and I’m sure you’re all wondering, what kept me strong during those laborious eons of hard time?”

“It was eight weeks,” Daichi cuts off his monologuing.

“You befriended that bank robber in the five days it took for Bokuto and Yaku to get a flight down to visit you,” says Ushijima. 

“I also went to prison,” Kiyoko adds.

“The eons!” He sobs dramatically, “In those dark ages of loneliness, I had only one thing to keep me strong.” 

“Was it my family? Don’t be ridiculous. The hope that my friends would solve my case and bust me out of there? Of course not, I had no faith in any of you. No, the one beacon of hope in my time in prison was obviously planning diligently… for tonight’s heist.”

He chooses to ignore the rolled eyes he gets, instead gesturing to himself, the captain, and Yaku lined up at the front. “This year is a free-for-all, even if you aren’t a past victor, you may compete for the chance to win the title of ‘Ultimate Human Slash Genius’ and bragging rights for the entire year.”

“Ohoho, so it’s every man for himself is it?” Bokuto chortles, “Almost like The Bachelor.”

“Sure, let’s go with that,” Yaku says, “Captain, would you care to show us all the prize?”

Ushijima takes a black length of fabric embossed with a plate-sized gold medallion out of the filing box it had been resting in. “Behold ladies and gentlemen,” he says with all the gravity of a funeral orator, “Our championship cummerbund.”

“Pretty sure that’s a belt,” Kuroo says.

“How pathetic,” Ushijima snorts, “I’d like to see the pair of pants capable of fitting this beauty into its belt loops. This is clearly a cummerbund.”

“Okay, well whatever this belt is, it’ll be hanging from the ceiling in the bullpen, for any of you to ogle longingly knowing full well that it’ll be mine by the end of the night. Yakkun, would you like to do the honours?”

Yaku nods and takes the belt from the reluctant captain, then climbs up the stepladder Bokuto had dragged out the night before and placing the belt on the hook suspended in the middle of the bullpen. “The belt’s in place,” Yaku announces, “Any last words before I beat the shit out of every last one of you?”

“I would like to make a brief statement.” Captain Ushijima says, stepping in front of their heist setup, “I intend to defeat all you common alleycats without putting in so much as a blink's worth of effort, and when my competition is as oblivious-” Bokuto grins brightly for a moment before he seemingly realizes the insult, “-apathetic-” Kiyoko returns her gaze to the book on her desk, “-brainless-” Tanaka and Nishinoya turn around to the back of the room, only to be met with a blank wall, “-And as old-”

“Sir, you’re older than me,” Daichi says tiredly.

“Yet you have no comeback for any of my other remarks,” The captain says, uncharacteristically smug, “With such weak competition, it will be easy to burn you all to the ground and emerge like a phoenix with my championship cummerbund held firmly between my talons. Good luck to you all, because I will crush you, you _insects_.”

“But I thought we were alleycats?” Kuroo murmurs to Yaku, who snickers.

“Well okay then,” Daichi says with a hint of unease in his tone. “With all the weirdly poetic threats out of the way, let the heist begin. If any of you need me, I’ll be at my desk, actually working.”

“Yeah right,” Kuroo laughs, “This is clearly a set-up, you’re just pretending to think the heist is dumb so you can usurp us all like the slippery snake that you are.”

Daichi pinches his nose and takes a long, drawn-out breath. “I’m not pretending, I do think this heist is dumb. Every year I have to watch colleagues I respect turn into chaotic, overly dramatic idiots just so they can win a stupid prize.”

“Now, now, don’t be like that Daichi-san,” Kuroo says, throwing an arm across the sergeant’s beefy shoulders. “It takes more than the heist to turn us to chaotic overdramatic idiots.”

No sooner has he said that then the lights flicker and blackout. Chaos erupts below.

“Alright who cut the power?”

“This is clearly a heist attempt!” 

“Let’s all stay calm and grab something to get our bearings.” 

“Nishinoya-san, please grab something else.” 

As quickly as it cuts out, the power returns, leaving everyone to gape in shock at the bare hook where the belt had hung mere moments ago. Off to the left, one of the computer monitors blinks to life with a crackle of static where a figure in a rubber wolf mask leers at them all.

“Hello there everyone!” chirps a distorted voice in an all-too-familiar tone, “Did you really think you could hold your silly heisting without me?”

* * *

“Tooru!” Kuroo says with a hiss, “What did you do to that belt you punk?”

“And why are you wearing a mask, you punk?” Asks Yaku.

“I have a child now,” Oikawa says unamusedly, “I haven’t had a chance to wash my hair in weeks and I can’t let my admirers see me like this!”

“Aww, how’s the baby?” The couple coo simultaneously.

“Like I’m gonna tell you,” Oikawa scoffs. “I’ve hidden your belt somewhere you’ll never find it, but, for every item of baby furniture I forgot at work that you build, you’ll get one clue to help you find it. Good luck!”

“Yeah, sure,” Kuroo laughs awkwardly, “Like we’re desperate enough to do your dirty work just for a heist.”

“Come on Tooru, don’t be ridiculous,” Yaku chuckles stiffly. The two lock eyes with each other, then the captain for a moment before all three simultaneously lunging across the room to Tooru’s empty desk and the piles of boxes behind it.

“I’ve got the music mat!” Kuroo shrieks, bolting out of the room like he’d been shot out of a canon. “Just try and beat me now Yakkun!”

He keeps up his pace until he’s hidden away in the empty record room, a moment later, Bokuto arrives, along with the masked man from the video. He pulls off the mask revealing a shock of red hair and wide owl-like eyes.

“We did it!” Kuroo cries triumphantly, “Do you have the belt with you Tendou?”

“Yesiree!” Fake Bokuto, er, Tendou, chirps. He pulls out the wide black belt and lets the light catch on the words ‘ultimate human slash genius’ and Bokuto gapes at it in awe.

Kuroo looks between the two men in front of him rapidly, “You know, you two look really similar,” he remarks, “It’s almost uncanny.”

Bokuto and Tendou look at each other then back at Kuroo. “You know, I just don’t see it,” Tendou says.

“Me neither honestly,” Bokuto agrees.

“Twins. Any issues getting inside?” Kuroo asks their decoy.

“Well-”

* * *

_“Hey! Authorized personnel only!” shouts the officer on security detail. Tendou turns around, leg still stuck in the vent, and squints in the bright beam of the woman’s flashlight._

_“Oh, detective Bokuto! I didn’t realize it was you,” the woman dims her light and waves cheerfully at him._

_“Yeah, well then you should get better eyes, you twit.” Tendou laughs airily at her shocked expression before ducking into the vents._

* * *

“Aww but I’m friends with officer Michimiya! She even invited me to her birthday party,”

“Yeah I don’t think you’re invited for much longer, she was incredibly upset.”

“Anyways,” Kuroo interrupts before Bokuto can spoil the plan by running out to blubber apologies at Michimiya’s feet. “It worked! You do a pretty good fake Oikawa, Tendou-san.”

“It helps that I’m comfortable wearing a mask,” Tendou says.

“Oh right, kinda forgot that you were maybe a prostitute.”

“Oh I was definitely a prostitute, but then I joined the Firefly Energy family, and now I make ninety grand a year, all from the comfort of my own home.” 

“Great, great, that’s almost certainly a pyramid scheme but you do you. Now gentlemen, let’s take a look at this here belt.”

Tendou reaches over to pass Kuroo the belt, but before he can so much as touch it, Bokuto grabs him by the wrist and cuffs him to one of the filing cabinets. “Wait, what? Bo, what are you doing?” Kuroo demands.

“Sorry bro,” Bokuto says, looking over the belt he’d picked up and inspecting it. “I’m just tired of you, captain Ushijima and Yaku always winning! So I did what I had to do.”

“Come on, you have to let me go, man,” Kuroo pleads, “It’s super important that I win this year.”

Bokuto averts his eyes, _good_ , Kuroo thinks, _feel ashamed_ , and turns to the door, “We gottem Tramps!” he shouts. Then the door opens and Bokuto is flanked by Kiyoko and Daichi, both looking at Kuroo squirming in his cuffs and Tendou sitting on the desk beside the filing cabinet, swinging his legs despite the fact that his feet touch the ground.

“Impressive, Bokuto,” the sergeant says. 

“I knew it!” Kuroo cries, “You don’t think heists are dumb, it was just a set-up so you could betray me!”

“Yup.” 

“You formed an alliance! This isn’t the bachelor, we’re on Survivor now!”

“You’re being melodramatic, but yes.”

“This is just cruel Daichi-san, I hope that your children know what kind of role model you really are!” he shouts. Daichi blanches at the mention of Tobio and Shouyo, but Kuroo turns his attention to Kiyoko before the sarge can react any further. “And you! After all that we’ve been through together, you’d spit on my trust like this? How could you betray me Kiyoko?”

“Because it was within my abilities to do so,” Kiyoko replies nonchalantly, and everyone flinches at the casual tone she says it with. None more so than Kuroo, “Come on Kuroo-san, trust is less important than the heist and you know it.”

“We’ve had enough,” Bokuto declares, “From now on, the Tramps are going to reign over the annual heist with an iron fist!”

“The Tramps huh, that’s what you went with? That’s your team name for sure?” 

“You have no say in this, and besides, Shimizu-san and the sarge like it.”

“Nope,” “Not really,” Kiyoko and Daichi say in unison. 

“Moving on! Sorry bro, but our partnership is over. Keep an eye on him, Tendou.”

“Tendou?” Kuroo cries when Tendou nods in confirmation, “How’d you get him in on this?” He only has to think about it for a moment, “Firefly Energy.”

Bokuto nods, then he, Kiyoko and the Sarge roll out, leaving Kuroo alone with handcuffs on and a prostitute turned pyramid scheme pusher doppelganger of his traitor best friend.

“You know, I used to feel as trapped as you are right now,” Tendou says after the traitor team is gone, “Then I discovered Firefly Energy and I was free of my shackles in no time flat. How would you like to become as liberated as I am?”

“Not now, Tendou!” Kuroo snaps. 

* * *

After ages pass with only Tendou bopping back and forth to the songs spilling from his earbuds for company, Kuroo spies movement outside the record room door. “Hey, Yaku!” he calls out when he recognizes the person passing by, “Over here!”

Yaku strolls into the room with a brow quirked, “Hello Tetsurou. Hello, fake Bokuto.” 

“Hiya!” Tendou chirps before resuming his dance.

“Oh thank god you came,” Kuroo exclaims, “I need you to let me out of these cuffs. It’s not a heist thing, I just really, really, need to use the bathroom.”

Yaku snorts, “Liar. You barely drink any water at all, you go to the bathroom every two days and you just went this morning.”

“Well, it sounds bad when you say it that way.”

“Because it is bad, you need to drink more or else you’re going to have a stroke at thirty-eight.”

“Please let me out, Yakkun,” Kuroo pleads, “I can give you intel on the rest of the heisters!”

Yaku tilts his head, “Such as?”

“The power going out, that was-”

“-A ruse so you and Bokuto could distract everyone long enough to give fake Bokuto time to steal the belt and pose as Oikawa in that video call,” Yaku fills in. 

“Yeah, well, did you know-”

“-That Bokuto betrayed you to team up with Sawamura and Shimizu to form the ‘Tramps’?”

“What?” Kuroo demands, “How’d you know about the tramps?”

Yaku’s smirk is cruel and unfairly cute, “Come on, Tetsu, who do you think gave him the idea?”

* * *

1 Year Ago:

_“To Oikawa!” The squad raises their drinks in a rowdy toast._

_Kuroo staggers forward to where the man of the hour sits with the crown and cape marking him the victor on proud display. “Tooru is one of the champs!” Kuroo cheers tipsily._

_Bokuto sighs watching them, “And it looks like I’m just one of the tramps,” he mutters sadly._

_Standing beside him, Yaku has an idea so brilliant it would make the likes of Curie, Einstein, and Hiraga Gennai green with envy. “The tramps huh,” he muses aloud, “You know, that would make a great name for something, I just can’t figure out what.”_

_He sees the metaphorical gears turning behind Bokuto’s eyes and slips off into the celebration while there are no witnesses._

_A triumphant sense of pride burns in his chest when he hears Bokuto’s pleased whisper of “But I just did!”_

* * *

“Like I said this morning Tetsuro, you can’t surprise me anymore because I’ll always be one step ahead of you. Face it; ya bore me,” Yaku gloats.

“Weird take on a loving relationship, but okay,” Kuroo mutters to no one in particular.

“You know what really adds flavour to a relationship? Co-owning a multi-level marketing-”

“Ignore him,” Kuroo cuts off Tendou’s script, “Look Yakkun, there are three Tramps, one captain Ushijima, and two of us. The only way we can win this is if we team up.”

“Hmm, you raise an interesting point,” Yaku places a finger against his cheek in contemplation. “I guess my response is… Rot in hell you smarmy overgrown dickweed!”

Kuroo gasps and Tendou smirks at the scene in a way that’s so familiar Kuroo can almost hear the “Ohoho?” in the back of his mind.

“Also I love you, and I treasure our time together, and ya bore me!” 

“You’re being so mean,” Kuroo whines, “Do it again.”

“I hope you die,” Yaku growls, and Kuroo gasps at the… weird things he feels in response to that. 

Then Yaku glides out of the record room, pausing for a moment to blow a kiss over his shoulder. Kuroo catches it like the lovesick fool he is, and then it’s just him, Tendou, and the playlist of bubblegum pop on Tendou’s phone.

* * *

Bokuto holds up his hand for a high-five from Shimizu, and to his delight, actually gets one. “It seems the tramps are about to become the champs!” He whoops.

“We won’t be for long if you don’t keep your voice down,” Daichi scolds as he ushers the other two into the server room, Bokuto mimes zipping his lips shut and throwing away the key.

“Alright, your turn sarge,” Shimizu says, “Time to lift up that heavy thing no one else can move.”

The ‘heavy thing’ in question is a server rack cabinet in the middle of the room. Bracing himself for the lift, Daichi grabs it close to the bottom and holds it up long enough for Bokuto to slide the belt underneath. Once that’s done, Shimizu directs their attention to the doorway.

“In case Kuroo-san gets free, or one of the other competitors tries to come looking for the belt, I’ve installed an electric eye,” she explains and pulls a chair away from the desk in the corner of the room to the doorway. “If anyone so much as breathes in the direction of this room, we’ll know,”

“Wow,” the sergeant says, voice coloured with astonishment “Nice work, Kiyoko-san.”

“Yeah, epic!” Bokuto adds.

Shimizu looks down at her phone to the tripwire’s controls in order to conceal the pride sparkling in her eyes at their praise. “It wasn’t hard,” she says, flicking the switch that engages the alarm, “Quick, let’s get out of here.”

And with all the grace of a dove, she hops onto the chair and vaults up to grab the doorframe and use it to pull herself over the tripwire and across into the hallway, where she lands upright with her arms positioned behind her like a gymnast.

Next up is the sergeant, and while he’s not quite as graceful as Shimizu, he still manages to get himself off the ground and over, landing with a rather impressive barrel roll.

“Great, now it’s my turn,” Bokuto psychs himself up, hopping from one foot to the other, “This is totally something I can do.” 

With a deep breath, he jumps up and instantly loses his balance, toppling to the floor in an inelegant heap as piercing wails drone around him. Shimizu giggles and hits a button on her phone, the noise dies off instantly.

“Well,” she says as she offers Bokuto a hand up off of the floor, “At least we know the alarm works."

* * *

“A moonless Jupiter?” Ushijima muses, “Well I pity any child that lies beneath this astronomically incorrect solar system."

He’s sitting at his desk, scrutinizing the array of inaccurately scaled planets and galactic errors when there’s a pounding on his office door. A second later, Tanaka and Nishinoya bound in.  
  
“Sir!” Tanaka hisses conspiratorially, “I think something’s wrong with this heist.”

“You do?” Ushijima replies with a bushy brow arching.

“Yes sir,” Nishinoya nods fervently, “So we’re here with a deal. You tell us everything you know, and we’ll tell you everything we know.”

“I won’t be taking that deal,” he replies firmly.

“Well, the joke’s on you, cap, because we don’t know anything.”

“Fine then, you’re dismissed.”

“Wait a minute, why are you sweating?” Tanaka blurts out, pointing to a droplet trailing down the stoic captain’s temple.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ushijima says.

“No need to play dumb with me captain, I’ve run enough of nii-san’s Bootcamp sprints to know what sweat looks like,” 

“Gentlemen, even if I were sweating -which I assure you I’m not- it was because I’d just finished watching an… exciting video,” Ushijima explains, thankful that his current audience isn’t sharp enough to notice the whirring of the pedal system under his chair and running into the ventilation shaft behind his desk.

“Oh yeah, what kind of video?” Tanaka jeers. 

_The chain runs through the vents and into the server room, where one of the largest cabinets was slowly being pulled upwards by a pulley running into the grate suspended from the ceiling._

“It was a video of a male volleyball player, as he went to set the ball, his uniform ripped, exposing his backside. It was highly erotic.” 

_The light from the electric eye glared an angry red as the chain hoisted the server off the ground. The click of nails on tile echo for a second before a little brown dog turns the corner separating the server room from the hallway. The dog’s tiny frame passes under the electric eye’s piercing gaze and into the empty room without a moment of struggle or pause._

“You’re lying bro,” Nishinoya leers at his superior officer, “IT just installed all that blocker software. I should know, I’m the reason it’s there.”

_Tiny jaws latch onto the cummerbund’s black fabric and tug it out from under the heavy rack of machinery. Then the dog is gone as quick as a wink, the fate of the eventual ‘Ultimate Human Slash Genius’ clutched in his furry little paws._

Ushijima begins to pedal backwards to bring the server cabinet back down. After a moment, his calves feeling slightly loose from the strain, there’s nothing left to lower. “Ah yes,” he says after pausing to drum up a plausible excuse. “However, there was no such installation on my computer because… I’m the captain.”

“Oh yeah? Well we don’t believe you, you’re gonna have to show us the erotica,” Tanaka taunts.

“That won’t be necessary gentlemen, I assure you that there’s nothing to see. Now-” Ushijima stands from his desk and gathers his jacket from the hook beside the door, “-I believe I need some fresh air, so if you’ll excuse me.” He gives the two a curt nod and leaves the room.

After a brief elevator ride to the ground floor, he stands with his back pressed to the wall and looks back and forth for would-be spies. Once he’s sure there’s no one around to snoop, he removes a silver whistle from his coat pocket and blows once. A little corgi dashes into view clenching a length of black fabric and Ushijima drops to his knees in delight. “Good boy Goshiki,” he praises the dog, scratching behind his ears affectionately, “Now, let’s see that cummerbund.”

Ushijima’s prize hound drops the cloth obediently and the captain scoops it off the sidewalk to scrutinize. To his shock, there’s no gleam as gold meets the streetlights, in fact, there’s no gold at all.

“Wait a minute…” he says lowly, “This isn’t my championship cummerbund, this is some common cummerbund!”

The dog at his feet whimpers and licks his lips, Ushijima takes a long look and notices the absence of black eyebrow-like patches of fur. “And you’re not Goshiki, you’re just some common bitch!”

* * *

A man can only listen to the Ouran Host Club opening theme so many times before he becomes desperate. When he sees Tendou open his mouth for yet another rendition of ‘Kiss Kiss Fall in Love’ Kuroo knows he passed that point at least ten minutes ago. Now it’s time for drastic measures.

“Alright,” Kuroo sighs aloud. “Looks like I’m going to have to 127 Hours this situation.”

Tendou paused the music and looks over at his captive, baffled, “You’re going to saw your arm off?” he asks incredulously.

“Wait that’s how it ends? I got busy and the rental expired, I thought he just wiggled out,” Kuroo says in shock. 

“Nope.”

He’s beyond ready to get out of these cuffs, all that he needs to do is convince Tendou somehow. “Come on dude, please let me out? I’ve never treated you like a prostitute.”

Tendou’s eyes narrow, “You just did.”

“Touche,” Kuroo hisses, “Look, however many supplements Bokuto bought, I’ll double that amount.”

Delight glimmers on not-Bokuto’s face, “Nine hundred thousand yen?” he exclaims gleefully. 

“He gave you four hundred fifty grand?!” Kuroo demands. 

“He didn’t give it to me, he invested it in his future. And you can too with Firefly’s-”

“I just said I’ll do it, just get me out of these things.”

“Oh, sure thing! It’s just that the script they give us says to expect more resistance,” Tendou chirps, pulling a massive stack of paperwork seemingly out of thin air. He drops it on one of the shorter filing cabinets with a loud thunk and clicks a pen in Kuroo’s face. “First off; you’re not allowed to review any part of your contract with an attorney.”

“Well, this sounds bad,” Kuroo says with a bubbly voice and a mind full of dread.

Several dozen pages worth of legal jargon, many more massive red flags, and potential soul-selling later, Tendou flips over another sheet, “This one says you’ve completed your sales training-” Kuroo signs his name for what feels like the hundredth time, “-And this is your written oath that you’ve met Yamaguchi Tadashi, fiance of Firefly Energy’s CEO Tsukishima Kei, and you found him to be alive, safe, and happy,”

That’s way too specific to mean anything but trouble, but it’s too late to back out now. So he signs his name for the final time and Tendou takes back the pen with a cheery smile. “Wonderful! Welcome to the Firefly family!” 

“Yeah, great to be here, can you uncuff me now?” His former captor turned fellow pyramid scheme investor has just finished unlocking his cuff when the door opens and Bokuto enters the records room.

“Hey Tendou, Hey Kuroo, I just came to- WAIT UP!” But he’s too late to defend himself. With a yell, Kuroo tackles his best friend and cuffs him to the same cabinet he’d spent the last several hours chained to. Payback’s a bitch sometimes. 

“Sorry bro, but if I’m gonna succeed tonight I need both my hands. Tendou! Don’t let him out of your sight.” Tendou gives him a two-fingered salute and a lazy grin.

“How’d you get Tendou on your side?” Bokuto hoots, then, a second later, “Firefly Energy.”

“I’m a platinum rewards club member now,” Kuroo gloats. Then he dashes out of the room, scurrying as discretely as he could towards the surveillance room. 

Kuroo leans over the monitors lit up to display the whole building at nearly every angle. He spies Tanaka and Nishinoya gorging on takeout, Shimizu flicking out the blade end of a penknife and letting it catch the light, Michimiya giggling at something Shirofukie from HR was saying (complete with rude gestures), and a broom closet where Terushima the rookie is making out with the brown-haired receptionist who’d replaced Kaname-san after last year’s heist ended with the poor man covered in a mixture of black feathers and glitter. Every glance between these computer screens shows him another side of his coworkers he would prefer not to know about. Finally, he gets something worthwhile on one of the exterior cameras: A familiar corgi dog scampering over to his master with something held firmly in his mouth.

“Ah-ha,” Kuroo muses to himself, “So Ushijima used Goshiki to steal the belt,” but then his captain’s brusque reaction to his usually doted-on doggie gets the gears turning in his head, “But it’s not Goshiki, he and Goshiki always walk in perfect lockstep. Which means someone took the real deal, and _that’s_ the person who has the belt,”

He flicks his gaze over to the camera focused on the bullpen right over Daichi’s desk. Yaku’s just come in from somewhere, dusting his hands together. When Daichi opens his mouth to talk, Kuroo clicks on the microphone to hear what the two are saying.

“Hey there Yaku-san!” The sarge greets, “Where have you been?”

Yakkun, ever-prickly Yakkun, scoffs with guarded boldness in his tone, “What, why do you care? I thought you weren’t heisting this year?”

“I’m not,” Daichi says with a roll of his eyes, “but you are my friend and I’m interested in your comings and goings because I care about you.”

Ooh, nice touch, disarming Yaku by expressing concern for him. And going by the way Yaku crosses his arms and casts his gaze to the side, it worked. “Well if you must know, I was in the bathroom, _friend._ ” He says, his voice flustered but sharp with distrust.

“Were you? Well, you were gone for a long time, _friend_. Are you sure you’re feeling okay, _friend?_ ” Daichi presses, his questions dripping with that same pointed suspicion.

“It was very intense, friend, but thank you for your concern, friend.” Then Yaku sneezes, tiny and kittenlike, but with enough force to send him careening backwards.

“Gesundheit,” Kuroo snickers. Then his eyes widen as he puts two and two together, “Wait, he sneezed. Dog allergies! Yaku’s the one who took-”

“Goshiki!” The captain roars and the fury in his voice is enough to send everyone scurrying to their desks and trying to look busy. Short little legs hurry away from Ushijima as decoy Goshiki skitters in behind him. “Now, I want to know which one of you traitorous little _vermin_ stole my dog. I couldn’t bring myself to neuter him, but I’ll neuter every single one of you. Slowly and deliberately.”

Everyone averts their eyes except for Daichi, the bravest, most foolish sergeant Kuroo’s ever known. “Uh, sir?” Daichi says, “Isn’t that Goshiki right there?” 

“This bitch? Please,” Ushijima scoffs hysterically. It seems the heist is getting to their dear ol’ captain, “Look-” he gives a sharp whistle and not-Goshiki flops to the floor instead of settling on his haunches like he’d been trained to. “-Now shake boy.”

No shake, just a meek whine. “Come on, shake,” the captain demands. 

In the midst of Ushijima’s frantic commands for obedience and Daichi’s increasingly concerned looks in the direction of the captain he respected now hollering so wildly, Kuroo spies movement on the camera trained behind Yaku. It can’t be Terushima returning to work (the cameras in the broom closet confirm that he probably won’t be back at his desk until midnight at the earliest), and with Tooru on leave, it can’t be him either. No, the movement is coming from a tiny remote-control car with the cummerbund fastened atop it puttering through the room and directly into the open safe under Yaku’s desk. His eyes dart around the room a few times before he carefully presses the safe’s door shut with his foot.

Once the door’s shut, Kuroo steps away from the array of computers with the beginnings of a brand-new plan tickling the back of his mind. “Bingo,” he smirks before jogging off to begin putting his newest scheme into action.

  
  


An eager yap resounds through the bullpen as a dog bounds around the elevator bank and towards Ushijima’s office. Slowly the captain opens the door when he hears the familiar bark.

“Goshiki…” he calls to the dog, lowering to the ground to perform the be-all-end-all test of identity. He puts out one of his hands, “Shake,” Ushijima commands. 

There’s a brief pause before a tiny paw lands in his palm. He gives it a shake and gives the corgi a once-over, “Good grip, pristine coat, ah yes, that’s my doggie,” Ushijima announces, giving Goshiki a thorough rub around his ruff. From his spot under the sergeant’s desk, occasionally receiving belly rubs & pats from Daichi, the fake Goshiki snuffles and lays his head down for a nap.

Then he straightens up and frowns at Goshiki, “You betrayed me,” he scolds, “You sold me out and you will explain yourself later. Return to my office in the meantime,” Ushijima gives the order with a level of authority in his voice that even Kuroo had yet to be on the receiving end of and Goshiki scampers into the office with a whimper. 

Suddenly, there’s an odd smell emanating from the breakroom, but Tanaka and Nishinoya are both seated at their desks, so it can’t be blamed on them trying to boil noodles again. Yaku looks up and sees a trail of smoke curling into the bullpen. 

“There’s smoke in the breakroom,” Yaku shouts in alarm. Immediately, everyone’s on their feet, ready to fight or flee from whatever’s causing the smoke. “Is someone doing something? This better not be someone doing something!”

The breakroom door swings open and artificial fog spills into the room, partially concealing the parade of red-robed figures with starched white bonnets atop their heads who march in at the same time.

“The Handmaid’s Tale,” Shimizu announces, “This was Yaku-san, I saw a copy of the book on his desk a week ago. He keeps talking about how relevant it is.”

“It’s super relevant!” Yaku retorts, “But this wasn’t me,” he insists, fervently, he rounds on the sarge, “This was Daichi! He watches it too!”

“I don’t watch it religiously like you do, it’s a date night show!” Daichi shoots back, “This isn’t me doing anything!” 

Nishinoya smiles flirtatiously at one of the Handmaids, “Blessed be the fruit, baby,” he whoops.

Shimizu looks at him incredulously. “You watch that show, Nishinoya-san?” she asks him in disbelief.

“What show?” Nishinoya replies, “That’s just my pickup line.”

More than a little wary, Daichi pulls Shimizu aside for a sidebar. “We should check on Bokuto,” he says, “We haven’t heard from him in a while, what if he-”

“What if he what sergeant Sawamura? Are you concerned, perhaps, that detective Bokuto has ditched the ’Tramps’ and fled?”

At their startled expressions, Ushijima continues, “That’s right, I knew about your little team-up, in fact, I stole the prize cummerbund out from under your clueless noses hours ago.”

Yaku’s been watching these Handmaidens circle the room aimlessly for five minutes when it clicks that that is the aim. Fed up with the scene, he makes for the center of the room, “Alright, everybody shut the FUCK UP!” he bellows as loud as he possibly can.

All movement in the room screeches to a halt and everyone falls silent. Even the fog still being blown into the bullpen seems to hover a little lower. “Handmaids, get out.” Yaku barks, and no sooner has he said it then they do, looking startled even with the hoods drawn over their eyes. But he grabs one of the tallest by the wrist and yanks them around to face him, “Except for you, Ofyaku.”

“Who?” A high-pitched voice squeaks out. Yaku pulls the hood off of the handmaid’s head, exposing a familiar head of rooster hair. Looking somewhat sheepish, Kuroo speaks again, voice still in that goofy falsetto that doesn’t match anything about the rest of his appearance, “I don’t know what’s going on.”

* * *

Arms crossed, Yaku stares at his ridiculous boyfriend, “The handmaids were your idea, you were going to frame me for that stunt while you used it as a distraction to steal the key to my safe and get the belt.”

“And I did!” Kuroo gloats, holding up a tiny silver key.

“Impossible,” Yaku says with a smug smile, “the key’s been in my shoe the entire time,” and now he’s holding up an identical key, eyes alight with the confidence of someone who’d already won.

“Really?” Kuroo replies, “Well it’s almost midnight, so why don’t you test that key of yours?”

“I think I will,” Yaku huffs as he bends down to insert the key he’s holding into the safe under his desk. The entire squad huddles around him as he pushes the key into the lock, “Well, would you look at that? The key fits and it looks like- oh no, it’s not turning, why is it not turning?” he babbles frantically, jiggling the key violently.

“Huh, having trouble with your key there Yakkun?” Kuroo gloats, turning to the rest of the heisters, “I bet none of you are gonna guess what I’m about to do.”

“Open the safe with your key and act smug about it?” Shimizu’s voice is dull with her usual lack of surprise.

Kuroo laughs in an exaggeratedly concealed fashion, “Of course that’s what I’m going to do, there’s no need to be so spot on all the time Kiyoko,” he strides over to where Yaku is hunched over his safe, mumbling incoherently. “Pardon me, please step aside so the professionals can work.”

Yaku glares daggers at him, but relents and shuffles off to the side, to his credit only applying about half the usual amount of force to the elbow he jabs into Kuroo’s ribs. Smiling like the cat that got the cream, Kuroo hikes up his red dress and squats beside the safe. As he shoves the key in, he can’t help narrating the entire procedure the way a sports announcer would.

“He’s putting the key in, oh, looks like it fits! The lock is turning, the door is opening, and the safe is…” He trails off for dramatic effect, pleased that his audience actually leans forward curiously. Looking inside the tiny safe, Kuroo gasps at the sight that awaits him, “Empty?! The safe’s empty!”

“What?” Ushijima demands, elbowing forward to see for himself, “It’s gone! The cummerbund is gone!”

“No it’s not because it was a belt the whole time,” Kuroo says in a rush. 

“This was Bokuto!” Shimizu declares, “He’s betrayed the Tramps,” she makes a face, “And now I’ve started calling us the Tramps.”

“Hold on!” Daichi says, “I put a tracking device on the belt, it’s moving south!” 

“We’ll catch him faster if we take my bike, let’s go!” Shimizu and Daichi take off for the elevators, leaving a gaping Yaku, Kuroo, and Ushijima behind them.

Once they’re gone Ushijima starts chuckling, “Wait, why are you laughing?” Kuroo asks suspiciously.

Grinning deviously, the captain explains his trump card, “I planted a tracking device on Sawamura last week. I already know exactly where he's going.”

* * *

_“Ah, sergeant,” Ushijima says, tilting a covered bowl towards where Sawamura’s sitting at his desk putting a bright orange crayon drawing in a picture frame. “It seems Eita made too much shoyu ramen last night, would you like any?”_

_Sawamura grins, “I definitely would, thank you, sir!”_

_“You’re welcome,” the captain murmurs darkly, “Enjoy, Sawamura, enjoy.”_

* * *

“I also bugged Daichi.”

“Yeah same here.”

* * *

_“No reason! I just wanted to thank you for all your hard work around here,” Yaku says brightly. Contentedly, Daichi takes the bowl and begins sipping appreciatively. “Now slurp it down, sergeant beefcakes. Suck down Every. Last. Drop.”_

* * *

_“What? Can’t a man offer the resident ‘Sergeant Dad’ a bowl of ramen out of the kindness of his heart?”_

_Shrugging, Daichi picks up the thermos Kuroo holds out to him and takes a spoonful. “Yes excellent,” Kuroo whispers, “Devour the soup.”_

* * *

“Do you think all that radiation is bad for him?” Yaku asks guiltily.

“Eh,” Kuroo says, “He’s a strong guy, he can handle it.”

“He’s lived a long life already,” Ushijima adds. The three of them stare at each other for a moment before they all bolt out of the bullpen. 

In the lobby, Ushijima makes eye contact with Kuroo and glares, “You can’t defeat me,” he sneers, “I’ve done my morning aerobics today.”

“Oh yeah?” Kuroo retorts, “Well then I’ll see you-” but Ushijima’s already charged out of the building baying for victory.

“-In hell,” Kuroo chuckles to himself, unzipping his red handmaid costume and heading back upstairs. He creeps as silently as possible into the evidence room and closes the door firmly behind him.

“Hello Tetsuro,” a voice from behind him greets.

Kuroo whips around to be met by Yaku, hands on his hips and a smile dancing on his lips. “Mori! Hi, what are you doing here? If you don’t leave now Ushijima’s gonna get the belt.” Kuroo babbles.

“You can drop the act darling, we both know the belt never left this building,”

“How’d you-”

“I kept wondering how anyone could have switched out the key without me noticing, and then I realized that they didn’t, they switched my safe,” Yaku explains.

“One of the handmaids, I’m guessing fake Bokuto, stole my safe and then ‘Ofyaku’ put a lookalike in its place. While you were distracting us with your goofy getup and key stunt, fake Bokuto broke into the safe, removed the tracking device, and led the rest of the squad on a wild goose chase. What did you give him so he’d help you anyway?”

“Nothing,” Kuroo says, “In fact, he gave me something, the power of financial freedom,” Yaku stares blankly at him and he scratches the back of his head self-consciously, “I invested in a pyramid scheme, probably a better conversation for later.” 

“Okay then,” Yaku replies while side-eyeing him warily. “Anyway, the belt is in this room somewhere, hidden away in one of these boxes, now it’s just a matter of figuring out which one.”

“Well, your luck runs out here Yakkun, because there’s no way you could possibly check every single box in-”

“It’s that one over there,” Yaku interrupts and Kuroo’s gloating trails off into choked sputtering. Smirking, Yaku strolls over to the shelving unit just behind Kuroo and picks up a box on one of the lower shelves. “Amateur work Tetsu,” Yaku chides, “The dust pattern on this one doesn’t match its neighbours.”

God, that’s so nerdy, how in the hell did he get this lucky? “Seems that I’m right again,” Yaku continues, “You’ve lost the ability to surprise me, you’re boring, and letting me into your life was the dumbest mistake you ever made.”

“Again, that’s a really weird take on a three-year relationship,” Kuroo says. Yaku waves a flippant hand in his direction and pries the lid off of the box he’s holding, reaching in to pull out a black belt with a massive gold plaque in the middle. 

“And would you look at that, it’s midnight! Looks like I’m an Amazing Human Slash Genius!” he chirps gleefully. 

Kuroo exhales deeply, “Yeah, you are. But before you get too smug, you might wanna reread the inscription on that there belt you’re holding.”

“What? Oh no, what did you do to it?” Eyes widening in alarm, Yaku flips over the belt and frantically scans the shiny gold letters. “Yaku Morisuke, will you marry… me?”

Numbly, he drops the belt onto a pile of boxes. Slower than a rich girl in a romantic period drama, he turns around. The shock in his eyes is still there, but it’s softer now, more tentative than manic.

Kuroo’s on one knee in front of him, a deep blue velvet box with a silver ring nestled inside cupped delicately in his outstretched grasp. “Surprise.” 

* * *

“I’m so confused, I don’t know what’s going on right now,” Yaku breathes tearily. 

“I’m so confused, I don’t know what’s going on right now: Title of your sex tape,” Kuroo blurts. 

“Oh my god I’m shaking, I think I’m gonna cry,” Yaku says, then as an afterthought adds, “Title of your sex tape.”

“Wait, is this part of the heist?” he stiffens, “I swear Kuroo if this is part of one of your heist schemes, I’ll dump your ass at sea with no one but Daishou Suguru for company.”

“It’s not,” Kuroo soothes, raising a hand placatingly, “This is real, please don’t dump my ass at sea with no one but Daishou Suguru for company,” with a deep breath, Kuroo tries to figure out how to put the one thing that’s been plaguing him for months into words. 

“Mori,” he says, “I love you. I love how smart you are, I love how unwilling to put up with anyone’s bullshit you are, I love your face, and I love your butt.” he huffs an awkward laugh, “I really should have written this down first.”

“No no, keep going,” Yaku sniffles, “You’re doing great.”

“I love how much you pretend to like Star Wars-”

“I thought that Empire Strikes Back was good,” Yaku says, but it sounds too flimsy to be 100% genuine.

“-You don’t have to pretend right now, it’s okay,” Yaku nods vacantly at his response and Kuroo tries to keep plowing through the speech he thought he’d look cooler delivering.

Oh well, there aren’t that many ways to look cool while on one knee trying not to cry on the evidence locker floor, and he’s got more important things to worry about right now.

“You’re a great detective, a great partner, and a great friend. I got really lucky that out of all the smartass detectives you could have made out with while stuck in a broom closet, you picked me.” Here it is, the home stretch of his big monologue, all he needs to do is pop the big question without making any wisecracks and-

“Also for reals, I love your butt.” -Dammit, now Yakkun’s going to think he’s an immature idiot and dump him to run off with Nishinoya, or Nobuyuki, or maybe even Lev.

Barely daring to look up after that little aside, Kuroo nearly misses Yaku’s shaky whisper of a reply, “I love yours too.” Thankfully, what with the heavy silence in the room, he hears just enough to cut himself off mid-plan to sabotage Yaku’s hypothetical wedding to another guy and whip his head up to see a small but genuine smile aimed at him. He utters a silent thanks to whatever power up there just cut him a break and plows forward.

“Yaku Morisuke, will you marry me?” he asks, jittery with anticipation.

Beaming, Yaku responds, “Kuroo Tetsuro, I will marry you.”

Kuroo grins like a loon and surges forward to place the ring on his fiance’s - _fiance! He said yes!_ \- finger, then he’s dragged down into one of the best kisses he’s ever had. 

“You know,” Kuroo murmurs when they break apart, “I was so sure you were gonna dump me after that last butt comment that I started planning how I’d storm your wedding and win you back.”

Yaku snorts fondly, “Dork. The captain talked about farming metaphors in his proposal and I’m pretty sure Daichi was high on anesthesia for his. If they came out of that then you can too. Besides-” he reaches up to muss Kuroo’s hair, ignoring the yelp of protest, “-I think it suits us.”

They’re still holding onto each other when Bokuto marches in a moment later. “Hey hey hey losers,” he announces loudly, “I bet you’re wondering how I got-” 

He freezes and his eyes bug right out of his skull when he finally gets the read of the room. “Did you just?” he stammers to Kuroo. 

With a grin, Kuroo tightens the arm he has slung over his fiance’s shoulders.

“And did you?” Bokuto rounds on Yaku, who nods and holds out his hand to show off the ring now adorning his finger. 

A veritable hurricane of emotions sweeps over Bokuto’s face, confusion, denial, protectiveness, hope, and elation swirl around his face like debris floating downstream. Eventually, all those emotions at once short-circuit his brain, and detective Bokuto Kotarou drops to the floor in a dead faint.

* * *

Once the squad returns and Bokuto regains consciousness, Tanaka proposes heading to the bar for a celebration. As soon as their drinks arrive, Daichi raises his glass for a toast. “To Kuroo and Yaku!” he cheers.

The rest of the team holds up their glasses, “To Kuroo and Yaku!” they echo.

The noise of clinking glasses dies down and Ushijima takes advantage of the lull in volume to speak, “So, since detective Kuroo altered the cummerbund, there’s technically no winner of this heist, correct?” 

“Captain,” Daichi scolds, and Ushijima has the sense to look away.

“Of course, my timing was inappropriate,” he concedes, “I’m very happy that you two are getting married.”

At that, the couple grin at each other, “We’re getting married!” Kuroo exclaims.

“We are!” Yaku replies and he startles as Kuroo lifts him into another kiss.

There’s a chiming noise and Shimizu pulls out her phone. “Oikawa just texted me,” she announces, “He says, ‘I didn’t even know Tetsu-chan could get anyone to go on more than one date with him! I’m kidding, of course, I’m happy for you two!’ followed by a collection of heart emojis,” she says this all in a bubbly falsetto impersonation of their civilian administrator that makes Yaku cackle. 

“You know,” Daichi chuckles, “I like to think that I gave Kuroo the idea to propose.”

Kuroo tilts his head quizzically, “You did?” 

“Yeah, that day by the coffee machine!” Daichi prompts, “Don’t you remember?”

* * *

_“So what I’m trying to say is,” Daichi trails off for dramatic effect, holding a cup of yogurt in each hand, “Vanilla has its own strengths, Strawberry has its own good points too, but pair them together and you get an incredible combination.”_

_He pauses to aim a pointed look in Kuroo's direction, and the lanky detective’s glazed-over look is replaced by a series of nods. Satisfied that he’s made his point, Daichi gives his coworker a pat on the shoulder and returns to his desk._

* * *

“That was a metaphor? I thought you were literally talking about yogurt,” Kuroo blurts, “Also speaking of eating, you should see a doctor, you’ve eaten like six GPS trackers this week.”

“What?”

“What?”

Bokuto elbows forward, looking tipsy despite only being about 2 beers in, “Now Daichi, we all know I planted the idea in Kuroo’s head almost eight years ago.”

* * *

_Clinging to his bag, Yaku glances around the lobby in search of someone who could tell him what the hell was going on around here. He spies a tall guy with hair like a rooster’s and a shit-eating grin._

_“Hi, I’m detective Yaku Morisuke, I’m starting here today,” he greets, extending a hand out to the guy in front of him._

_Something in Rooster-hair’s expression sours and that shit-eating grin starts to look more like a sneer, “Oh I know who you are, detective.”_

_So rooster-hair is one of those guys, is he? No matter, two can play at that game, “Sorry?” Yaku asks, tilting his head faux-curiously, “I can’t say I remember you at all.”_

_“That academy training camp, I’m Kuroo Tetsurou, you broke my record for fastest time,” Rooster-hair prompts, “I swore I’d take back my victory.”_

_“Hmm? No, I can’t say you sound familiar,” Yaku replies as he studies his nails, “I did beat a lot of academy records during my training, after all.”_

_Scowling, Kuroo points his way in challenge, “Well we’ll just see who’s the smug one once I make more arrests than you next month, won’t we?”_

_Yaku matches his glare and the two shake on their first of many bets, “May the best detective win,” he says._

_“How sweet of you to root for me, I won’t let you- OW!” Kuroo yelps, massaging his hand where Yaku had firmly crushed his knuckles in an iron grip. When indignant eyes are turned his way, Yaku feigns innocence and pulls out his notebook to make a note on the environment in this new precinct:_

  * _Detective Kuroo Tetsurou; competitive. Not like it matters, because I’ll grind him into the dust every time he tries to start a bet_



_The two glare at each other some more and a new man, with owlish eyes and spikey black and white hair slides over beside them._

_“I’m hearing wedding bells!” He says in a singsong voice. Kuroo flushes and Yaku stares at the newcomer awkwardly, more than a little confused. The guy with owl hair extends his hand outwards for a handshake, “Hi, I’m detective Bokuto Kotarou, it’s great to meet you,”_

_Once Kuroo and Bokuto are both gone, loudly arguing about their plans to see a movie that weekend, Yaku makes another note._

  * _Detective Bokuto Kotarou; ships his friends, but since he’s shipping me with the smarmy rooster, can’t really have that much of a nose for romance. Like I’d date that guy. **E** **ver**._



* * *

“That actually really slowed things down though,” Yaku replies, looking a little uncomfortable at the memory, “It took like three years for me to forget that event.”

“Yeah I know, I can be my own worst enemy,” Bokuto agrees, and takes another swig of beer. 

“You’re all wrong,” Kuroo declares, “Because I decided I was gonna propose all on my own, back in June.” 

* * *

_They’re lying on the couch, an old sci-fi movie playing on the TV in front of them when Yaku scoffs at something one of the scientists on screen is saying._

_“A newt,” he laughs mockingly, “The least you could have done is picked an actually scary animal to mutate into a man-eating lake monster.”_

_Kuroo smiles softly, realization hitting him like a punch to the face._

* * *

“That was the moment?” Shimizu asks with an arched brow, “That seems somewhat anti-climactic.”

“I dunno man,” Kuroo says distantly, “That’s just when I knew.”

The squad lets out a collective ‘aww’ at that, and the couple of the hour flush at the attention, with Yaku muttering incoherent threats in embarrassment.

“Well then,” Ushijima draws the attention back to the dimly-lit bar, “Congratulations again on your upcoming nuptials.”

Kuroo and Yaku turn to thank him, but the notoriously competitive captain isn’t done. “Technically there was no winner.” 

Instantly the party breaks into loud booing, with Kuroo and Yaku bellowing the loudest, but Ushijima doesn’t look like he regrets anything, not in the slightest.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this wordy self-indulgence! In all honesty, this fic and the universe I came up with around it was a huge blast to create and I'm tempted to turn it into a series. If I did, future installments would probably revolve around episodes like "The Bet", "The Party", "Pontiac Bandit" & the other Halloween Episodes! If that sounds like something you'd enjoy, lemme know! I'd love to hear from you guys. 
> 
> Check me out on Tumblr as @bluebird-writes-things, or on twitter as @bluebirdsfics


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